


Elven Tears

by Moribirb (Owlteria)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Book Spoilers, Complicated Relationships, Drama, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/M, Feelings, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 12:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16095740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlteria/pseuds/Moribirb
Summary: Shortly before the final battle against the Wild Hunt on Undvik, Ciri and Avallac'h have a conversation regarding Ciri's sacrifice and the White Frost, their complicated, mysterious relationship and future plans...





	Elven Tears

"Where are you going?"  
  
"For a walk! Or is that not allowed either? Because I could break my leg..."  
  
On furious steps she had left the tent in disagreement, a foul mouth he had come to known best in all these months he had spent time with her. With eyes of uncertainty he watched her small white back disappear down a road to the shore until she was entirely out of his view.  
  
It was a calm, quiet morning on the isle of Undvik, part of the Skellige archipelago. Plagued by feelings of immense guilt, he had to keep his composure for the sake of everyone but her temperament and his own mental state brought him slowly to his limits. His legs almost made an attempt to follow her as soon as she had left their gathering point when her words rang in his ears again and he stopped on his toes:  
  
_Spare me your false concern, I don't need it. I have enough and I'm sick of you. If this is all over...I...I never want to see you again._  
  
A sharp streak of pain bolted down his spine right into his heart when those poignant words from their earlier argument came back to his mind, each single one so justified. She was so right in everything she said, in the accusations which she had yelled straight into his face.  
  
"Oh yes, the elder blood can be fiery...", he murmured on a regretful tone, blaming her for the uneasy situation although he had been the root of complexity and difficulty in their relationship.

That was exactly what she said to him centuries ago. Before she left him for another love, a human man, before she _died_ .  
  
_I never want to see you again...Crevan._  
  
It burned in his ears, ran through each nerve of his body into the tips of his fingers and toes and only left an aching crack in his old, melancholic heart when he remembered how Lara was rejecting him, despising him.  
  
He hoped he would have never heard those destructive words again from someone he deeply loved. His heart was almost torn from his ribcage, his cold fingers trembling as he could feel Geralt's judging eyes piercing his back for upsetting his adoptive daughter. The witcher made no particular effort to hide his aversion and lack of sympathy towards the elf on all possible occasions.

Even if no one saw it, Cirilla was indeed the only one who mattered to him in this moment on a very personal level.  
  
"I'll be waiting for you by the boats.", was the last thing Avallac'h said to the witcher with a thin voice before he pulled the hood over his head and went off and out of the military tent, leaving a puzzled Geralt behind. Longing for her attention with the plan to apologize, he followed Cirilla's tracks down the path to Marlin shore where she waited for the upcoming battle. He came to realize again that this was the last chance to speak personally to the swallow before they would head off to kill Eredin and travel to the ancient elven tower at the northern peak of Undvik - just like they conspired without having their company involved.  
  
Cirilla made her decision. She would face the curse of the White Frost by entering Tor Gvalch'ca as soon as Eredin was defeated. Avallac'h was aware she could lose her life once and for all and-  
  
_Shut up. Don't lecture me. You should be the last one being concerned about me kicking the bucket!_ _  
_ _Because... I’m just a human._

On the abandoned coast, she just sat there on old wooden planks, arms next to her, staring into the rising sun with a saddening frustrated expression, her bright, sparkling hair glowing golden than ash blonde in the reddish light. Avallac'h compared her to a precious, shiny pearl standing out on the cold, eerie grey shore of Undvik and he was aware this could've been the last sunrise for her to watch. And perhaps for him as well.

For a moment he hesitated. His rational mind played with the idea of turning around and leave her alone with her grief. But his heart took the lead immediately, making him move.

The mere thought that she would give his life for everyone, for him, was nauseating.

But he had no choice than to accept her decision. Not to mention, he was the one who asked her about it, asked to stop the White Frost in order to save the world, asked her to sacrifice herself, but the more he thought into this extremely selfish idea, the more he wanted to quit, to apologize, take her hand and just run away with her - away from their destiny, from Cirilla's deadly fate, rather let the worlds die if their safety demanded her sacrifice.  
  
But that wasn't what _she_ wanted. She desired to save the world for her friends and family. And he couldn't follow his heart, couldn’t act irrational, as it was the wrong path for him as an Aen Elle.

Elves like him weren’t supposed to be fond of humans - in any way.

 _If it's about my fate, I am aware that you're only interested in my genes. If I die, there is no chance that this damned Elder Blood line will continue, right? That's the only concern you have, correct?_  
  
The fresh, salty breeze of Skellige hit his firm cheeks when he approached the beach and joined her at a safe distance to watch the sun going down on the horizon. She was still in a huff and didn't make a move to give him any attention. Instead she just turned away from him slightly, disappointed, hurt, sad, heartbroken. Traces of tears were still glistening on her rosy cheeks. The last time he had seen her like that was at her mentor's funeral in Kaer Morhen - and in Tir na Lia after she had spent a night with the old Elf king.  
  
Avallac'h could tell and feel all of her sorrow, her suffering by her mere expression.  
  
And it was his fault. It had always been his fault. That she was left traumatized in Tir na Lia when he forced her to sleep with the elder king, that Eredin hunted her down like a rabbit for years, that she spent her life fleeing and hiding, and precisely seen it was his doing that she even existed.

It was all his fault alone. And now he failed her in the present, just as he had failed Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal centuries ago.  
  
Carefully Avallac'h came closer in ridiculous hope to fix at least something, let himself allow to sit down right next to her, expecting her to move away once more, yet she stayed where she was. Immediately Cirilla could smell traces of his mysterious fragrance emerging from underneath his robes that was quickly carried away by the ocean wind. A cologne she always associated with time travelling and the many adventures she experienced with him on their journeys through time and space. A unique scent that reminded her of a secretive, lonely man from a foreign world and culture who was torn between self-loathing and unhealthy pride.  
  
"Ciri, listen-..."  
  
Avallac'h broke the awkward silence, which didn't impress her at all even if he was calling her...her intimate name. He didn't used her short name unless it was a serious matter of concern.

Cirilla was still nervous and upset, angry even about what she saw and heard at his laboratory. The elf woman who spat the most racist tirade at her, his obsession with the Elder blood genes, the fact that he was just pretending to be her friend the whole time for the sake of keeping her otherworldly gift out of Eredin's hands. It was too much to bear. Yet his calm and deep voice soothed her. Even if he seemed so different from all the other Aen Elle she'd met before on her journeys, he was still one of _them_.

"I'm not despising you.", he said with a long breath from his lungs, helpless, his eyes quickly flicking down to his dirty boots in the stony grey sand.  
  
"I know."  
  
Her short and unexpected answer surprised him, and her facial expression was cold like the salty sea of Skellige. Cirilla didn't look at him, her piercing green eyes were travelling over the sparkling surface of the ocean.  
  
" _Hating_ should be the correct word, just like that elf woman of yours used it. It was nothing new what I learned there about you, I mean. I got upset about something I've known for years, so...", she continued trying to keep her voice steady but her eyes watered as soon as she spoke and she tilted her head away, bit her bottom lip to prevent herself from crying in front of him. She still felt too proud towards the sage to give up.  
  
"I don’t care. I rather prefer dying being aware of the truth than dying like a fool obedient to a sweet lie that was created to make me submit, to make me useful so that I would cooperate with someone who deeply hates me. To use me as a mere tool. Just like everyone else. Just like a certain controlling, secretive and bitter old elf originally planned, who kept me as a baby-making prisoner of his godforsaken world."  
  
Avallac'h didn't answer, just let the harsh words sink in. He then sighed unnoticeably, exhaling slowly to suppress the aching pain stabbing his chest when he heard her speak. Her biting words felt like another punch in his face but this time he had no other choice than to swallow them. So many accusations, so many wounds she dared to rip open and he knew he would endure the pain this time, that he deserved to be on the receiving end with no way out. Cirilla had gone through so much, and he was without a doubt the one responsible for the fact that she was slowly giving up herself; The revelations in his laboratory tipped her over the edge.  
  
But he was afraid it was too late to fix anything either. Avallac'h would bring them up to the tower of Undvik - to let her die for the greater good. For his own selfish intentions. Without being able to tell how he really felt.  
  
_I'm doing this for you as well_ , she had said earlier to him with a confident smile on her face when they were travelling through Skellige, hiding from the wild hunt. _Because I don’t care about race or origin. You are my friend and I trust you. With all my heart._  
  
"I thought you were different. I thought you...you wouldn't only see the special powers, these...genes of me like everyone else does...", Cirilla said, her voice broken and she wiped the upcoming tears quickly off her face; the consequences of her naivety had hit her once again - hard. "After Tir na Lia, when you came to save me from Eredin, after our travels through all these worlds, the time we spent together, that one... drunk kiss under the starry sky...I really... thought you would see me as an individual who is worthy enough to be your...your friend."  
  
She continued to rub salt into his wounds. Her gentle form was slightly trembling, as she had to let go of her emotions and didn't mind to hide them; unlike him. He would never expose himself to anyone, would never confess his feelings to someone - that was what he believed until he had met Cirilla.  
  
But since she was perfectly aware of his fragile heart behind that stony mask of an elven sage, she had located exactly how to hurt him the most, where she had to stab his vulnerable spots with her verbal knife. And she made no attempt to hide her own pain while hurting him - in the most passive-aggressive way, in hope he would _bleed_ and realize what she felt.  
  
He hated it. Avallac'h hated his incapability to comfort people, specifically humans, and his lack of sociability when it came to any interaction with them. When Lara confessed that she would leave him for a human mage, the entire world fell apart. He blamed her, was overwhelmed by consternation when she rejected him and crushed his heart, bones and flesh with a tremendous lie. And in the end he came to the conclusion that he was the sole reason why she left in the first place, why he had lost her.

Lara Dorren's rejection left a deep trail of wounds and scars behind on the sage's soul - and Cirilla knew very well.

 _What about you? Can't you just fuck me and make that baby yourself? Because I do have Lara's eyes, no? It should be no problem for you to just take me and-_  
  
Years ago when destiny brought them together in Tir na Lia, Cirilla managed to reopen his deepest wound which Avallac’h couldn’t take.  
  
And that was when something changed within him.  
  
Of course it was hard for Avallac’h to open his heart to anyone after what happened in the past, deeply afraid he could commit the same error again and lose the one he loved. And humans were an entirely different story. He was sure they wouldn't understand him anyway, wouldn't be capable of comprehend his complex feelings.  
  
He was wrong.  
  
"What I did to you years ago is inexcusable.", Avallac'h admit shakily, but he managed to stay collected even if he felt the urge to lose control of his stifled emotions. Painting himself the victim never was an option for him.  
  
Cirilla huffed at his answer, but she stayed there as he continued his apology.  
  
"But to tell you the truth, I do care.", he finished and prepared himself for more of her reprimands since his words sounded so blunt and not very convincing.  
  
"I did withhold information regarding my studies of the Hen Ichaer and your bloodline, true. But I never lied to you. Not once."

She didn't dare to catch a glimpse of Avallac'h's hidden face underneath his hood, but his shaking form, the thin voice and her intuition made it obvious enough; he struggled with a mental breakdown, just like she did back in Tir na Lia when he blackmailed her with sweet words, then treated her like dirt, choked her.  
  
For the first time after years Avallac'h wanted to cry, to apologize, hug her, kiss her, stop her from what she aimed to do for him and the elder folk. Cirilla on the other side yearned to punch him, to stab him, pierce his heart with her sword to make him _feel_ .  
  
"I'm sorry. I..." His throat felt tight like she had choked him with her frustration.  
  
He loved this human woman - unconditionally, despite their racial and cultural differences.  
But he clearly was too ashamed to admit it.  
  
Now it was Avallac'h who lifted his head to look into the other direction, avoiding Cirilla's accusing eyes so full of fury and unfulfilled love. He hadn't cried for decades, centuries perhaps. Lara’s death had made him numb, taught him to hold back his feelings, to avoid any moment of weakness. Similar to the Witcher trials, Aen Saevherne, Elven sages, went through a similar treatment, which changed their mental capability to perform magic, strengthened their psyche and encouraged their national pride and state of mind often at the cost of their own common sense.

  
Yet he hoped someone, _anyone_ \- Ciri precisely, would understand his actions without judging them.

He knew it wasn't an excuse for his gruesome behaviour, it didn't justify the things he had said, he had done to her previously. But it was an explanation of his actions. And the chaos that wreaked havoc in their relationship.

"Forgive me...", was the last request he brought over his dry lips and it was a pitiable plea.  
  
He couldn't find the right words anymore, as his common language skills suddenly failed and his ellylonish accent was heavier than ever. Hard to convince Cirilla that he had never intended to make her losing trust. And he was very close to give up on trying.  
  
Cirilla immediately regretted her words when she curiously leaned forward and tilted her head to watch his sublime, triangle-shaped face under the hood. The color of his bright aquamarine eyes had somehow faded and the irises looked blurred by a greyish veil. His skin was unusually pale. It reminded her of the dying Auberon Muircetach, the former King of the Aen Elle, when he breathed his last breath in Cirilla's presence, when he was holding her hand with his cold, lean, ghostly fingers - until it was over and oblivion beset the bitter ruler.  
  
A memory she hardly wanted to recall, as it had given her terrible nightmares many years after her visit in Tir na Lia.

The Aen Elle had never been kind to her. Avallac’h remembered conversations he had with several authorities in the capital.

 _That girl has Shiadhal’s eyes and ass. You wouldn’t give two shits about her otherwise, ha ha_ , Eredin mocked him.

 _As long as you stay out of Eredin’s plans, I’m not permitted to stop you in your ambitious schemes, Crevan,_ Ge’els had warned him.

 _But she is just a human. No, some kind of...degenerate breed that humiliates our entire nation! Don't tell me you truly care about a ‘that’,_ his former girlfriend complained.

Cirilla drew her head back, too terrified to watch his eyes gradually losing color and her heart jumped. She wasn't sure if it was just her imagination, or the fact that the sun rays tickled his face, drained the colors and made him look like he was... _dying_.

"Can elves really die of sorrow and broken hearts...?", she then tried carefully to regain control of their conversation after a long silence when she saw him slightly shaking, his left hand sliding over his face in shame to remove trails of salty wetness.

She then noticed how close both of their hands were lying next to each others on the planks, their small fingers almost touching.

"Well, apparently I’m...still alive.”, he only said dryly and Avallac'h was aware that Cirilla referred to the elven legend of the sunstone he had told them earlier on the ship - and his past with Lara Dorren.  
  
"Don't be silly...", she said, realizing that Avallac'h compared himself to the elven man of the legend who suffered from unrequited love. "Just answer my question."  
  
"It’s a legend, Ciri."  
  
The sunstone. He plainly forgot that he had to meet Geralt by the boats to start their fight against the Wild Hunt - and to let Cirilla fulfill her calling.  
  
He wondered what Geralt would say, how he would react if he found out the truth of his adoptive daughter's true intentions. Cirilla insisted to hide their risky plans from her foster father until the very end since she was sure the white wolf would try to stop her. Despite their conspiring situation and his hopes Cirilla would survive, Avallac'h once again realized she'd made her decision, that she'd rather die than get the people she loved killed.  
  
That _he_ belonged to one of them she _truly_ loved.  
  
A noble woman with the determination of a true Lara-descendant.  
  
Everyone cared for Cirilla just like she cared for them. Cirilla shared this mutual support, her love with both Geralt and Yennefer. Seeing them being together and trusting each other like family made him desperate.

Over 200 years nobody particularly asked about him, or cared about what he felt, how he was struggling with his feelings, how or if he felt anything at all. Quite the contrary. His own people derided him about his feelings for Lara, even years, decades after her death. The Aen Elle didn’t hesitate to show their repulsion towards their own blood - mostly in form of humiliation and ostracism.  
  
But Avallac’h got used to it, as he couldn't expect anyone here nor in his home world to ask about his well-being, simply because they weren't fond of him generally as a person. To them, even for the Aen Elle, he was just a pretentious Aen Savhaerne with a deep superior complex and a hidden agenda for his own selfish purposes. Why would all of a sudden someone care or even ask about his emotional condition, his suffering? He was just an elven sage, born to study the Elder Blood, a chosen one that would pave a path for the Aen Elle to regain their racial superiority and greed for power.  
  
A _tool_ . He was merely a tool. Just like Lara was supposed to be a means to an end during her lifetime. And yet he felt like wanting to scream and cry and break this aloof masquerade he had kept for centuries in order serve the Aen Elle and his home world - to be their saviour.  
  
"Ciri, I...I don't want you to go...", Avallac'h admitted with a whisper, his nails scratching over the planks as if he wanted to hold on to something, someone.  
  
"There is no place for me in all these worlds...except being at your side.”  
  
Cirilla couldn't see his unreadable face, but his words sank in deeply and when his small finger accidentally, gently touched hers, she didn't draw back like he had expected. Hesitantly she pressed her own digit against his as an approval, intertwining them - giving him a second chance he deserved.

One apology after another rushed through their minds and mouths. A simple, single, tender touch but so effective, so relieving.  
  
"I waited generation for generation to finally meet you, Cirilla...", Avallac'h continued with a steady but sad voice. "You are more than just some unique powerful genes to me. You are what Lara had been for me..."  
  
His thumb gently caressed the back of her hand through the leather glove as he just held her while she listened - patiently, despite having no time at all.  
  
The fabric was thick, but Avallac'h's touch intensive and loving enough to make her body and mind relax in response and she wasn’t sure if it was one of his magic spells or the magic of their bond; Cirilla slowly tilted her torso to the side, leaned down against his shoulder.  
  
"...family."  
  
The gentle physical contact made Avallac'h's heart almost spring off his rib cage but he welcomed all of it. She was so warm, so small, so thirsty for love.  
  
The sun had risen into sky, illuminating and drying off their tears. Both were shaking from the cold ocean breeze and it had started to snow. Tiny, sparkling flakes dancing gently in the wind, foreboarding the White Frost that came to threaten the worlds, yet Avallac'h could swear he was seeing a bright, new future instead.  
  
A future that wasn't meant to be according to the prophecy. But a future he aimed to built with his own hands this time.  
  
They just sat there, holding each other, suavelly, coming to peace. It reminded Cirilla of their very first hug in Tir na Lia when he had hold her captive in his world and then apologized for mistreating her - just a hundred times more emotional.  
  
"...cold...", Cirilla whispered into the fabric on his chest, shivering when the sage's arm slid around her back, his calloused hand pressing her delicate figure against him in an attempt to warm her up.  
  
When she looked up, she saw his sad, bright aquamarine eyes, still pale, that were reflecting unseen elven tears in the bright morning light on the horizon. Tears that served as enough proof of the complicated, emotional truth that was buried in his heart under a pile of duties, interracial boundaries, prophecies and false pride.  
  
She had never seen him so broken like that before. Not once.  
  
When she tilted her head up, their eyes met once more and the sage could feel her warm breath against his chin. His hand gently pulled back a hair strand out of her freckled face before he traced her long thin scar with a fingertip. For a human maiden, a dh'oine, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met before.  
  
Cirilla hesitantly leaned into his touch, took his invitation, nuzzled against his palm and closed her eyes before she met his lips in a feathery, gentle kiss.  
  
He tasted sweet like the warm honey tea he drank at the camp. She grabbed him by the scarf and layed her arms around his neck when his scent invaded her nose, pulled him down and pressed her tongue into his warm mouth - wild, fiery - like a true child of the elder blood, yet still inexperienced and he wholeheartedly enjoyed her clumsy, eager kisses. When her back hit the wooden planks, she gasped into his mouth and he immediately drew back out of caution.  
  
"I want you to get out of these damn robes...", Cirilla whispered with a hint of flirty impatience, her emerald eyes fervent and challenging, glued to his elegantly curved lips.  
  
She realized they had gone too far when Avallac'h distanced himself. There was absolutely no time for personal matters, for this kind of pleasure no matter how needy both of them were. The two Nilfgaardian soldiers who stood a few metres away, had kicked them out of their passionate trance with an obvious cough.  
  
"You really want me to catch some frostbites out here?", Avallac'h asked with a smirk of irony and he could feel the unresolved tension coming from her. Humans surely were surprisingly interesting creatures. And Cirilla was a very specific subject he would love to explore more on a personal side.  
  
"Not a very clever plan, considering the Red Riders are awaiting us with their ice magic. How about we leave this matter until later on when we are back... in a cozy bed...?"  
  
Cirilla returned Avallac'h's proposal with a dirty smirk and an intense blush on her cheeks. "When everything is over..and I’m making it out alive.", she murmured confidently before she leaned up again, her hand still clasped in his scarf. "We get into that bed and-"  
  
She stopped.  
  
"And what, Zireael?"  
  
Cirilla licked her slightly swollen lips, glancing at the two Nilfgaardians in their black armor. Her expression was highly toxic, her cheeks stinging from the blood that rushed through them.  
  
"Stop peeping, you morons!", she yelled and hissed at their amused stares which made them immediately turning around and leave.  
  
"I think we have much to do when we are done here. Will you come with me...? When everything is over?", she asked quickly, unsure about the future though and he could tell by her darkened expression.  
  
Avallac'h got up from the planks. He knew exactly what she suggested and most importantly - what he wanted to say.  
  
"I'll go with you wherever you want... if that is your wish, Ciri."  
  
Small snowflakes whirled down into her hair when she followed him to the boats before it would all lead to their final destination. He had taken her hand along the way, carefully, but strong enough to ensure her that she wouldn’t fight her fate alone - that his heart wouldn't let go of her so easily.

**Author's Note:**

> The fic was written to practice my English in the first place and I wanted to write down this little scene. I apologize for any mistakes and the ooc fluff at the end but I couldn't resist. I really like the complicated relationship of Ciri and Avallac'h in both game and book. I do appreciate feedback, positive or negative, no matter how harsh it is :D Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading haha


End file.
